One moment they were walking down the hall in the Imperial Palace of Elf Land, the next they were…Somewhere Else. The air was laden with chemical fumes, the sky overhead gray and sullen. There was a loud shrill honk and the screech of brakes as an automobile halted barely six inches away from little Stick’s nose.
The boy screamed and cowered, clutching at the older dark elves. Zin scooped him up and stared at the car.

“Hey! Y’ Dumb Kids! What are you doing? Standing there! Get outta the road!!” The man hung halfway out the window, shaking his fist at them. Other cars behind him added their own curses. Never mind the kids in question had just appeared out of thin air a moment before.

Skunk blanched, caught Zin by the sleeve of his jerkin and dragged him off the street. “Zin! Where the Soggin Hell are we?”

Zinfandael looked around with horrified wide golden eyes. He shivered. “Earth.”
~:*:~


It seemed like they had been walking for hours, lost in the gloomy maze of the human city, all stained brick and concrete. Stick had dropped further and further behind, unable to keep up with the others.  He finally stopped on the curb of one busy street and wouldn’t budge, waiting and crying until Zin ran back through traffic to pick him up. They took turns carrying him then, and tried to cross on smaller streets.
The dull afternoon light had faded into evening about an hour earlier, the sky above coated in a sickly purple-ochre glow. They’d just cut across an ill-lit parking lot when Skunk found the Hole.

There were two old brick buildings looming above them, warehouses probably, and below a small hole cut into the dressed stone, half covered in a drooping wilted willow tree. Skunk paused and handed Stick to Zin then slipped past the bush. He rustled around behind it for a minute or two. There was a sudden screech, metal on stone then Skunk was back, wiping his hands on the back of his pants.
“There’s a hollow back there.” He said. “I thought it was a culvert but it looks like it was part of a old wine cellar or something.  It’s pretty clean- there’s some old leaves and some wind blown papers but I didn’t see any rats. And there’s a big shelf in the back, probably for the casks to sit on and a rusty gate to keep people like us out.” He grinned, a flash of white teeth in the dark. “But the lock was old and I spelled it open. Easy.”

Zin looked around the empty street and frowned. “Earth has Hotels. Inns where we could pay to sleep…”

Skunk’s tone was flat. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a smattering of silver and copper coinage. “This is all I have. I know that even if we find a moneychanger open at this hour whatever he gives us won’t be enough for one night at an inn. Unless you’ve got a pot of gold hidden in the bottom of your haversack there?”

Zin shook his head. “I…no. Not a leprechaun.” He looked apologetic. “We stay here then tomorrow we find moneychanger and get food there.” He slipped the sleeping boy into his other arm and pointed across towards the grocery store. “Then we wait. Bran and Olumsiz- they will know we are gone here. They’ll find us. We just have to wait.”

Skunk looked at his handful of change doubtfully. “I hope they hurry.” He muttered then held back the branches so Zin could creep through.

“I gotta pee.” Stick shivered on the wide bench. He was wearing Zinfandael’s black doublet- it was far too big for the little boy and hung nearly to the ground.
“Oh.” Skunk looked rather nonplussed. He licked apple juice off his fingers. “I hadn’t thought of that when I said we should stay in here.”
“There are bathrooms in the bus shelters and the parks.” Zin said thoughtfully. “I remember from when I live in the New York Freeport and this place probably like it.”

“I didn’t know you lived on the Iron world, Zin. How long were you there?” Skunk was openly curious.

“Oh, a while.” Zin patted his green backpack fondly. “That’s where I got this.  I lived in New York with Aeron- have you met her? She’s nice- anyway she has a big old tenement building that she turned into a…” He frowned and pronounced the unfamiliar word carefully. “Museum.”

Stick slid off the shelf and capered there in the dark, knees together, glaring at them. “I gotta pee NOW!”
“Okay! Okay!” Skunk stood and took the boy by the hand. We’re going to find a bathroom. Stay here Zin. We’ll be back soon.”

The older elf watched them leave, only their pale hair visible in the dark. He finished his apple, leaving only the seeds and core.
“Oh. And some restaurants let you use them. I should have told them that.” He glanced at the empty archway. “…They’ll figure it out.”

It rained the next morning. There was a puddle forming under the willow, the water thick and coffee dark and moisture streaked the low ceiling of the ancient cellar. The three elves were huddled on the wide stone lip, as far from the archway as possible. Zin was using his backpack as a rough pillow, little Stick curled under his arm and Skunk lay awkwardly over their legs. They’d taken off their thick elfish doublets and used them as blankets. It wasn’t a very good solution but they didn’t freeze either.

Skunk had returned from the bathroom trip with a large sheet of plywood, brightly painted on one side with a crimson background and a large stylized black “C O C”. It looked like it had once been part of a larger advertisement before Skunk acquired it. He’d wedged it in the archway, the dull side facing the street. He had to bend the top down a little and hammered at it with a rock until it fit the curve snugly.
“Trust me. This will keep it a lot warmer in here-even if it is ugly.” He grinned at the others. “And when we go to buy the food I’ll get a few candles. Even one can make a big difference.”

Zin thought this was a good plan. Stick didn’t voice an opinion, having fallen asleep almost instantly once they got back.
~:*:~


Skunk found the moneychanger on their third day on Earth. It was in an old respectable looking building, with worn steps and a green marble façade. Someone had painted several words and a rough sketch of a face on one of the stone slabs in a garish pink. It made Skunk grin.
He pushed through the door- the entire thing one solid sheet of glass set with a brass push plate- and glanced at the burly uniformed man standing a few feet inside. His skin was as dark as Skunk’s own, his head shaved and the young elf automatically recognized him as a paid thug. Not really a surprise however.  Every moneychanger in Elf Land had at least one.
The floor was a grayish stone, flecked with shiny black. There were niches set into the walls, clerks working within them, shielded by more sheets of glass. Skunk joined the line of people standing patently along a velvet rope and waited his turn.
When it came he found himself face to face with an older human woman, smiling at him from behind her glass screen.
“Hello Sweetie. What can I do for you?” She asked him in a singsong accent.
He dug out all his elfish coin and slid it across to her with a hopeful smile. “I would like Earth money please.” He told her in his broken English.
The clerk took the coins and counted them carefully. She had a small picture book with ranks of words and figures beside each and compared it to his coins. “It works out to twenty three dollars and seventy-five cents.” She laid four greenish paper bills before him and three dull steel coins. “Can you sign this please? It’s a receipt.” She pushed a strange looking pen and another slip of paper toward him and gestured to the blank line near the bottom. He picked up the pen- it worked like a normal quill pen just without the mess- and drew in his name, the series of Trowin pictographs, all squiggles and loops.
“Thank you” He said and tucked his Earth-money into his belt pouch. Twenty-three dollars! Why he was rich!

Skunk only got lost once on his way back to the cellar but only a little. He forgot to cross one road and walked an extra block on the wrong side before he realized his mistake.
He was still feeling rich when he sauntered into the grocery store then stopped abruptly inside.
It was amazing.
The ceiling was ten feet high set with lights that glowed bright as the sun and strange music that seemed to come  out of the very walls! There were rows of racks at least eight feet high, the shelves loaded to bursting with bright coloured boxes and shining metal cans. One row held frozen things without any ice in sight! His breath frosted on the wide glass doors. “Po…psi... klle.” He read aloud. “Weird.”
He wandered the aisles just looking for a long time. There was a butcher shop and a bakery and a little garden stand selling fresh cut flowers, right inside the store! It was marvelous!

A short bald man in a dirty apron stopped him eventually and asked if he was looking for anything in particular.
“Food?” Skunk hazarded.
The bald man smiled and waved a hand around at everything. “We have plenty of that.”

“Food that will keep for several days.” Skunk frowned and rubbed his chin. “Bread I think and maybe a hard cheese. Do you carry dried meat? Or fruit?”

The man picked up a bright blue wire handled basket and gave it to the young elf.
“Fruit? Apples? Oranges? Melons?” The man rattled off a good many more that Skunk couldn’t translate and led him further into the store. They came to an open section that had fruit piled on low wooden tables like a giant outdoor market that sold… only fruit. There were at least five kinds of apples. Pink ones, green ones, red ones. Pears and oranges, four sorts of melons and three sorts of potato…
He stopped and stared.
Not only were there three orchards worth of fruit sitting in gleaming rows but it was all perfect. No bruises or worms or flecks of mould. The bald man laughed at his stunned expression.
Skunk reached out and picked up several apples and put them in his blue basket. They rolled around in the bottom.

“Cheese is over here” The man called and took him to yet another part of the store.
Skunk added a wedge of Parmesan to the basket and a round loaf of crusty bread- pre sliced. The man showed him the rows of bottled juices and explained that they would keep without spoiling so Skunk took two of those. He bought four little tins of kippered fish in mustard sauce and a package of Tropical trail mix. He bought a four-pack of little pink candles. He had to leave a chocolate bar behind as he wasn’t quite as rich as he thought. He got thirteen cents change. His purchases filled three of the thin brown paper bags the humans used to carry. He hoped it would be enough.

The parking lot was almost empty when Skunk left the grocery store. The rain clouds had closed in again and the first few cold drops were landing heavily on the macadam. There was a group of young humans lurking on the corner, dressed alike in heavy leather and plaid coats, baggy dungarees and dark glasses. Their dark hair was pulled back under funny looking long billed caps and most held lit cigarettes. A couple of them leered at him when he walked by.

Skunk had crossed the street and was closing on the cellar when the first boy caught up to him.
“Hey Elf!” The boy jeered. “Where you goin’ Point Ears?” There was the sound of pounding feet as his friends ran to catch up. They didn’t want to miss out on any of the fun.

Skunk stopped and slowly turned, unsure of what to do. There were too many of the humans for him to fight- he knew that. One or two he could probably take, maybe even the three small ones… but not six. He couldn’t lead them into the cellar either and risk Stick getting hurt. He put the groceries down against the wall then faced the gang.

“Yes?” He said evenly, trying to look unconcerned. The first boy, the one who spoke to him was most likely the leader the young elf thought.  He looked up and met the boy’s gaze, dropping his arms behind his back in a relaxed manner, one that left them conveniently near the hilt of his belt-knife. He touched its handle but didn’t draw. That would make things go from “Bad” to “Worse” almost instantly. And who knew what sort of nasty toys these humans carried. “What do you want?”

“What do we want? We want your kind outta here. We don’t like you Point Ears.” The leader said, puffing out his chest and crossing his arms. He was trying to look imposing Skunk knew but compared to some of the thugs the elf had dealt with in the past the human simply looked ridiculous.
There was a ragged chorus of “Yeas!” and “You tell ‘im, Man!” from the other boys.

“Damn Elffie Scum!” One of the boys near the road cried. Skunk glanced at him and knew it for a distraction a little too late. Another boy came from the other side, swinging for Skunk’s head.
The elf ducked it and kicked him in the balls.  The human fell back and crumpled, clutching at his injured parts, cursing the elf in some foreign tongue.
Skunk grinned broadly and like that all the rest came for him.

The next few moments went by in a blur, Skunk trading punches with one boy even as another hit him. Skunk fought dirty, every trick he knew from stomping feet to spitting in eyes to pulling their baggy coats halfway up over their heads. He felt two noses splatter under his hands and broke someone’s wrist.
But his successes made the gang even angrier. The elf crumpled to the bloody sidewalk, covering his head.  One of the boys pulled his left arm out from the protective curl and jumped on it. Skunk felt the bone give and gagged.
Then the kicking began and the young elf soon passed out.

“Bad Men Hurt SKUNK!” Stick shrilled wide-eyed from his spot under the willow tree.  He glared at the humans, scowled then dashed out and kicked the nearest one in the shin.

“OW! Hey What the F-?” The human looked down at the boy and swatted at him. Stick went tumbling against the wall and crushed most of the groceries.

There was a low buzzing growl, almost like a buzz saw on the verge of shorting out. Zinfandael stood there, above Stick, shoulders hunched, fangs bared. “Take that all- get inside Stick.” He slurred. “I will fetch Skunk.”
The boy scrambled to his feet, dragged off the grocery bags and vanished into the cellar.
“Ho! Damn! There’s a lot of freakin’ elves!”  The leader cried, seeing Zin. “Like cockroaches!”
That was the last thing he said however as Zin grabbed his coat, hefted him off the sidewalk with one hand and tossed him back into two of the others in one easy gesture. There was a honk and a curse as the three rolled back into the road, narrowly missing a passing car.
Zin smiled and stepped forward. He grabbed two more in his long goblin hands and cracked their heads together. They staggered back, shocked and took off running.

The last boy just stared at Zin and spread his hands. “We’re cool man. We cool.”
The three boys picked them selves up and fled back to their parking lot, leaving the last one alone.
“Uhhh…” The boy said and pointed behind Zin. “Look over there!”
Zin glanced away, his paranoia getting the better of him, then snapped back as the last gang member made his getaway. He scowled and crouched beside Skunk.

“Wake up? Please?” Zin asked him in a worried tone, giving him a little shake.  He rolled Skunk over and looked at him, at the already swollen arm, the blood on his face and the bruises that were already starting to show on his café au lait skin.
Zin snarled in frustration and scooped Skunk up, awkwardly carrying him inside. Zin laid him on the bench on his stomach with his head turned, just in case he threw up or something.

“Is he okay?” Stick sat crouched over the food bags, a slice of bread in his hand and a cut on his cheek.
“No. But maybe he will if he sleeps long enough.” Zin ran a hand down Skunk’s face   and drew his doublet up over his thin shoulders.

“The bread is nummy.” Stick said and handed Zin a piece. “He got you apples, see?  And things in cans. But this stuff explodered when I squished it. Is it still good?”  
Zin sat on the floor beside Stick and put him on his lap. They contemplated the spilled trail mix in the one bag together. “Yeah. It’s fine.”
~:*:~

A day passed then two more. Skunk still didn’t wake, barely even moved.
Zinfandael was worried. Six days had passed and nobody had come looking for them. He’d been trying to reassure Stick that they would be found and everything would be okay, even Skunk. He’d sang every song and told every story he could think of to the boy to distract him and all he managed to do was convince himself he would never be a good minstrel.
He’d tried to make the food last but the damp got in the last of bread, both containers of juice were empty and one of the kippers had broken open during the fight. There was only one apple left.
Stick had retreated to the corner and was drawing on a torn paper bag with the crayons he found in Zin’s green backpack.
Zin gnawed on one of the pieces of dried fruit and when it was a mass of soggy sticky stuff he fished it out and crammed it down Skunk’s throat.  Then he held his nose until he twitched and coughed and swallowed. The older elf popped another bit of fruit and frowned. “Come and have a bit of cheese Stick.” He fed Skunk that piece too.

The little elf growled and glared at him. “It’s yucky. I don’t wannit.”
Zin sighed and bit off some cheese. “You didn’t like the kippers either but you ate them.”

“They didn’t smell like your boots.” Stick put his drawing aside, the worn crayons carefully in their box and crawled over to snuggle against Skunk.
~:*:~

Zinfandael looked around the grocery store warily, thirteen cents in his hand. He was fairly sure it wasn’t enough to buy anything or else Skunk would have spent it during the first trip But Zin had to try.

He’d left Stick crying in the cellar with the last apple, half curled beside Skunk.
Zin didn’t think Skunk was ever going to wake up again. Why hadn’t they found them yet? They should have been home by now.
A little voice whispered in the back of his mind that the others, Bran and Olumsiz and Maer'yt. They didn’t want them back, not really. Because He and Skunk and even Stick were just dark elves: they weren’t really people…

Zin found the aisle with the canned food and browsed it, trailing one claw tipped hand along the glittering metal. Every now and then he picked up one of the cans and glanced at the illegible label like the other shoppers did. The printed words didn’t make any sense to him but that was okay. He was just trying to fit in.

He found two cans he thought looked good and carried them toward the waiting clerks. One had a picture of little pink sausages on it, the other sliced orange fruit.
He waited with the other people, slowly moving up the line until it was his turn.

“Oh Hi!” The perky looking blonde girl said to him as she passed the cans over the magic mirror in front of her. “You came back!” She thought he was Skunk, he realized, and smiled slightly.
“That comes to One dollar and seven cents.” The happy clerk said and waited expectantly.
Zin obediently gave her the money.

She stared at him. “This… this isn’t enough. You’re short ninety-four cents.”
Zin bit his lip and shrugged fatalistically. Then he grabbed both cans and ran for the door.
“HEY!” He heard the girl cry behind him. “You can’t…*” Whatever else she said was cut off by the door closing behind him.

He dashed across the busy parking lot and ran across the road. Did they cut the hands off of thieves here? He wasn’t sure. He hoped not. He glanced behind him- it didn’t look like anyone was giving chase. That was good. He ducked under the tree and through the archway.

Skunk hadn’t moved. Zin had hoped that maybe he would while he was gone. That Skunk would be sitting up and joking with Stick the way he was supposed to.

“What did you get?” Stick asked. The boy slid off the stone bench and took the can out of Zin’s arms. “Pink things!” He smiled and hugged Zin’s leg, pressing his face to the dirty fabric.  Then Stick clambered over Skunk and sat, carefully opening the can. He fished out the innards- sausages like Zin had guessed- and ate them slowly.

Zin looked down at the other can and frowned at it. It’s top didn’t have one of the pull-tabs the pink sausages and the kipper tins had.  He had no idea how to get into it.

Stick frowned. “You not hungy?”

“No.” Zin lied. “I’m going to save this for later.” He put the un-openable can far back on the ledge and lit one of the last two candles with a touch of magic.  Skunk was right, he thought. The little candles with the door mostly blocked really did keep the cellar warm. And they smelled good too.

His stomach growled.
“…I’m gonna visit the bathroom at the bus place. You finish those and if anybody comes you hide, okay?” There was just enough space between the ledge and the far wall for the little elf to squeeze into. It wouldn’t stand up to much scrutiny Zin knew, but it was the thought that counts. “I’ll be right back. Promise.”

There was a muffled cry outside in the street. Vaguely he heard a soft meep and saw Stick creeping under Zin’s forgotten doublet. Skunk pushed himself up off the stained stone bench and staggered up, out the door. Then Skunk was outside. The late afternoon light blinded him for a fraction of a second but he had the impression of several people surrounding Zin, pinning him on the ground. He absently noted they were wearing some sort of dark uniform, a bludgeon at their waist. “Flatties!” His mind shrieked at him. Skunk snarled and launched himself at the closest figure. “Stop! Get off him!” He pounded on the man’s back.

A moment later after a neat flip the man had him pinned on the ground and had wrenched his arms behind him. There was a click-snap and Skunk felt cold metal on his wrists. Busy hands unfastened his belt and took it and his belt-knife away. Another uniformed man stooped beside the first and hoisted Skunk to his feet. One grabbed his left arm tightly and darkness rolled over Skunk. He staggered and was shoved- surprisingly gently- through a car door. Darkness throbbed behind his eyes and he slumped on his side, barely aware. The car door slammed.

He heard Zin spitting curses in Trowin. The car door opened and Zin’s slight struggling form was thrust inside. Skunk shifted, ignoring the pain, until Zin’s face was above his. Zin’s amber eyes were wild and he was breathing hard.

“Hey...” Skunk said worriedly. His Trowin was slurred, even to his ears. “Hey Zin… Calm down, ‘kay?”
Zin blinked once, twice and the feral look began to drain from his face. “Peace man.” He muttered. “Peace men get us…” He sighed and shifted to curl awkwardly on his back. When Skunk looked at him again, Zin was asleep. Skunk wiggled over to the car door and looked out the window.

“I only saw one of them in the store.” A man was saying. He was pudgy and balding and wore a stained black apron. He gestured across the street at the grocery store. “I saw him grab a couple cans and run. He ducked in there.”

One of the dark blue uniformed policemen nodded, writing in a small notebook. Another took a flashlight off her belt, pulled the rusted iron gates a bit further to one side and ducked under the old stone arch.

Skunk had visited the store... no- not yesterday. He knew time had passed since he found the moneychanger but wasn’t sure how much. His memories were hazy and what the bald man said didn’t make sense. He had paid for the food…

It was dark and cool under the arch, and smelled of damp stone. It looked as though it had once been a cellar, back when the building above had been a winery and the one next door a woolen mill, back when Boston was only a few hundred years old, not quite British anymore, not fully American. Or that was what the small dirty copper plaque inset beside the arch read.  
There were a couple fallen leaves in one corner and a torn paper bag covered in wax crayon scribbles. A pink votive candle burned on small ledge, three others beside it, hot wax trailing down to drip on the floor. It smelled of roses. There was a pile of cloth discarded on the wide stone lip that ran the length of the small forgotten room. She tsked and picked it up. It was a coat, of fine elfish make, black as ink and trimmed in red gold thread. Below that was a second, this one blue as the sea, edged with silver. Below that coat she saw a flash of crimson. She lifted the second coat and placed it over her arm.  

A set of wide leaf green eyes stared up at her, horrified. A small, dark hand reached up to snatch the coat back. There was a little boy crouching there, Elvin with the odd dark cast the other elves outside had. He- was it a he? It was so hard to tell what sex Faerie children were- the fine features and bright eyes…  He wore a red doublet, his white hair was dangled and his face and hands were grubby.

“----!” The child shrieked something in a strange Elvin dialect, glared at her and wriggled away from her. He took a bright green dusty backpack from behind him and stuffed the two coats inside it. The policewoman had a quick glimpse of a stuffed dinosaur and several worn wax crayons. Then on tiptoe he grabbed the unburned candle off the ledge and added it to the pack. He looked around, ignoring the policewoman and found a tin of peaches. That went into the pack as well. There was a plastic grocery sack gaping open on the floor. There were several empty tins in it, a couple apple cores, brown and sticky and the ripped package the candles came in.  The little boy tied the top together and put it on the ledge as if he expected her to do away with it.

“I’m Officer Mendoza. So” The policewoman said, crouching on her knees. “Would you like to go outside with me?”
The boy gave her a blank look.

“Don’t speak English, hmm? That’s all right. Lets go for a ride in my car, hmm?” She smiled and scooped him up. He tensed at her touched then relaxed as she zipped the Earth-made backpack closed and handed it to him. She ducked under the arch, her hand protecting the boy’s head, lost in bunny soft white hair.

The policeman with the notebook looked up, pen in midair. “Oh.”

The bald man stared. “That one- never came into the store.”

Skunk pressed up against the window glass. “They... they’ve got Stick.” He whispered to the sleeping Zin. He bit his lip and kept watching.

The policeman shut his notebook and nodded at the bald man. The bald man went across the street and back into the grocery store.

Stick saw Skunk watching from the window and struggled, reaching out for him. The policewoman carried Stick to the car and opened the door. She carefully buckled him in beside Zin, closed the door and slid into the passenger side.
The policeman slid behind the wheel and started the car.

“Wait!”  Skunk lunged forward, awkward in the shackles. The metal mesh that separated the front seats from the back pressed sharply into his cheek. “Where you take us?” He knew his English was poor but he had to try.

“We’re taking you and you’re friends to the precinct house where your friend will be formally charged.” The policeman turned to watch the elves in the rearview mirror. Skunk could see the corner of his mouth curl in an almost reassuring smile. “We’re going to sort this out. Now please sit back.”

The car accelerated away from the curb and Skunk slumped in his seat. His left arm was throbbing. Beside him Stick wiggled and stared fascinated out the windows at the towering old skyscrapers. “Vroom! Vroom!” Stick giggled happily.


The ride across town was uneventful- Skunk fell asleep shortly after Stick was buckled in and slept until Zin shook him awake as the car was parking. Officer Mendoza unbuckled Stick and carried him up into the building first.

Her partner took the older boys out and marched them inside a large red brick building. There was a knot inside Skunk’s stomach and it grew when Zin slipped his clawed manacled hands awkwardly in his. He could feel Zin tremble. They sat on a bench for some time- the man beside Skunk reeked of beer- then they had their photographs and fingerprints taken.

Officer Mendoza came trotting by carrying Stick. The little dark elf had a battered comic book upside down in his hands and was admiring the cover.
“Lookiee!” Stick waved the comic at them. “Picture book is all shiny!”

Stick scrambled out of her grasp and dashed over to the camera. “Me too?” He asked her in elfish.
Mendoza chuckled. She caught the tone of the request if not the actual words and swung the boy up in front of the camera. He beamed at it as it clicked and flashed then ambled along with her to cheerfully coat the edge of the worktable and most of himself in ink.

“I’m going to put him in a room with some toys.” Mendoza told Skunk and Zin. “He’ll be safe there while you finish here.”

“I under stand.” Skunk looked over his shoulder at them as he and Zin were led away. They were brought to a cream-painted cellblock and locked in. Zin, his thin face drawn, wordlessly pushed Skunk down on the built in cot then huddled beside him, chewing on his ink-stained fingertips.

“If they ask,” Skunk whispered, his voice harsh and tired. “You’re my uncle. Stick’s my brother. Don’t admit to nuthin.”
Zin turned his sad orange gaze on the boy. “We in trouble. Me fault. Am sorry.”

Skunk shrugged then winced. “Happens. Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ve been caught by the Flatties before.”
“Skunk?” Zin bit his lip; Skunk could see the tip of a fang. “I run out of meds, one two three day ago.”
“Oh.” Skunk said, softly. “That’s okay, I think.”


Time passed. A policeman wearing normal clothes- Skunk could tell by the way he stood, the stiff stance of his shoulders- unlocked the cell and led Zin out. Five minutes later he returned and led Skunk to a small plain room. There was a single light in the middle of the ceiling that shone down on a scarred table and a large mirror set along one wall.

Skunk sat wearily, huddling in his shirtsleeves- the room was cold and smelled of stale coffee and even staler tobacco. He stared at his reflection in the long mirror and scowled. His hair was tangled, his face grubby and bruised. He rubbed his black eye with the tips of his right hand, the one that worked, and sighed.
The door opened, with a shriek of hinges. Skunk winced.

“Sorry.” A young half-blood woman stood framed in the doorway. Her eyes and hair were green. She spoke badly accented elfish. “Maintenance has been promising to fix that for a while. I’m Detective Greenleaf. You’re Skunk, right?” She strode in and sat across the table from him. “For the streak, right?” She gestured at his forehead.

He gave a slight nod but didn’t smile. “Where are my uncle and brother?”
She smiled. “Your uncle is in the next room over- my partner is talking to him. I’m afraid he’s in trouble. Shoplifting is a serious crime.” Suddenly she looked stern. “So is assaulting a police officer.”

Skunk’s lips thinned. “Didn’t know you were Flatties. Thought you were… someone else.”
“The same people that gave you that black eye?” She searched his face. “I thought so. You want to tell me what happened?”

Skunk met her eyes then shifted restlessly. “We… I… I’m not sure how we got here. We were at a… a friend’s house… then there was a bright light and we were here.” He gestured around the room with his right hand. “Where ever here is. Earth somewhere.”

He traced the edge of the metal table with a fingertip. “We found the little room- It was dry and kept out most of the wind. Took me three days to find a moneychanger: the greengrocer across the street wouldn’t take Elvin coin. I came back with food and when I crossed the road there was a group of...” He trailed off unsure of the correct description. “They… jumped me, kicked me…” He hunched in his chair and shifted the fingertip to run it across the tabletop. “Then Zin was there, pulling them off me. I remember he brought me inside, and then went to get the food I dropped.  But there wasn’t much left: They wrecked most of it…” He shook his head slightly.

“Then what happened?” Greenleaf looked sympathetic. He was having a hard time remembering She wasn’t on his side.
“I don’t know. I went to sleep. Next thing I remember there’s noise outside, people fighting. I run out try to help and then I’m in the automobile then here. Things have been a little fuzzy last couple of days.” He shook his head again and smiled ruefully. “Where’s my brother? Is he okay? I see him?”

“He’s in another room with a lady from Social Services, playing with crayons. I think you’ll be able to see him soon.” She stood to leave.
“Uh...” Skunk bit his lip then came to a decision. “Zin -my uncle- he needs his meds. He’s… Sick.”
She nodded and slipped out the door.

A few minutes later the door opened once more and Stick ran in, followed by Detective Greenleaf and a woman Skunk hadn’t met- probably the Social Service lady- what ever that was.
Stick squeaked happily and practically jumped on Skunk who hugged him close, awkwardly with his good arm.
“Zin he gived me an apple,” Stick chattered, one arm wrapped around Skunk’s neck. “We eats weenies in can. It had a pulley thingy on top! Then the big men come a find me. I hungry. We go home now? I not like it here.”

“He wants to go home.” Skunk translated for the women and tried to keep the quaver from his voice. “And he’s hungry”
The door opened again and Zin was meekly led inside.  He was seated at Skunk’s left, scowling. Zin turned the two younger elves and announced “I hungry too.”
Skunk chuckled. “We are all hungry.”

Greenleaf nodded and left, returning with three vending machine muffins and an armload of pop-cans.  She put them all on the table, shrugged and then she and the Social Service lady left the room.  

Zin stared at the food in front of him but made no motion to touch it.  
Skunk grinned, stood and awkwardly opened the drinks and passed them out then looked down at the muffins. “Stick? Can I have your knife to cut with?”

Stick fumbled at his back and drew a small dagger from the sheath there. He passed it to Skunk very carefully.
“Thank you.” Skunk murmured and chopped each muffin into thirds. He slid them over to the others- chocolate chip, blueberry, carrot-raisin- wiped of the blade and re-sheathed it at the small of Stick’s back. “It’s not poison, see?”

Zin had already torn halfway though his pieces while Stick crammed his mouth full. Skunk forced himself to eat some. He wasn’t actually hungry but he didn’t know when he’d be offered a chance to eat again and forced down a few bites. It was dry and stuck in his mouth. As they finished up the door opened and Greenleaf walked in once more She knelt beside Stick and stripped him of his belt and the little knife that hung there. “Sorry Sweetie but I can’t let you have that.”

“Hey! That mine!” Stick growled. He reached out to smack her, shedding crumbs.
Zin touched his arm and shook his head, the older elf’s tangled white hair falling over his strange orange eyes. “We in trouble. Not make more Stick.”
Stick crossed his arms and pouted. He looked very offended… and very cute.